


The Fanta of the Opera.

by PatPrecieux



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Fluff and Smut, Halloween, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 17:41:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16454444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatPrecieux/pseuds/PatPrecieux
Summary: It's the Yard's annual Halloween Party. This year there's a talent competition meant to liven things up. Does it ever!





	The Fanta of the Opera.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JaneOfCakes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneOfCakes/gifts), [AlwaysJohn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwaysJohn/gifts).



> Think you know who our favorite characters will dress as for Halloween? And what are their talents? Let's look into our crystal ball and find out.

At that precise moment, Captain John Hamish Watson, Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers, had his boyfriend, William Sherlock Scott Holmes, folded up like an accordion on their bed "examining" Sherlock's prostate with the one rather large appendage of John's that did NOT require a latex glove.

 

The sound that came from Sherlock was remarkably like a werewolf howling at the full moon. As John collapsed breathless onto Sherlock's chest he snarked, "Willing to go to the party now, brat?"

 

The verdigris eyes that opened slowly looked smug rather than defiant. "I ALWAYS intended to accompany you, John. I even have my costume at the ready."

 

"What was THIS all about, then?"

 

"Surely you can't be that thick John. This was about my first trick or treat of Halloween day. It was more treat than trick I deduce."

 

John sighed, "All right, git, well played. But speaking of deducing, I predict you are going as a pirate, yeah?"

 

"The universe is rarely so lazy John. Point of fact I am not, Mycroft is however."

 

Two startled eyebrows shot upwards, "Mycroft is stealing your thunder?"

 

"Actually, no. It seems Giorgio expressed a desire to see my brother as a buccaneer. Mycroft even asked my permission."

 

"Which you granted. Will miracles never cease? Good on you, Lock."

 

"Well, it seems of late I have developed a greater appreciation for the sentiment of others and myself."

 

"Wonder who made that happen?"

 

"Doctor, gloating is beneath you. By the way, I assume you will be in uniform."

 

"That's getting a bit old, innit? Nope, something new. Guess we'll surprise each other."

 

***~~~***~~~

 

By mutual agreement, they had dressed in separate rooms, meeting in the sitting room at the same time.

 

Sherlock was momentarily struck dumb. The same could not be said of John. "Jesus you look fantastic, Sherlock."

 

His eyes roved over the tall figure dressed in a tuxedo complete with red satin lined cape, a dramatic black hat, and a ghostly white mask covering most of his handsome face.

 

"You're the bloody Phantom of the Opera. Amazing!"

 

This seemed to shake Sherlock from his stupor. "Not bloody, simply mysterious. You however have huge feet. Why are you wearing huge feet with... is that hair on your feet and toes?"

 

"Brilliant!", John grinned, "Now go on and tell me you don't know Bilbo Baggins."

 

"Are you some sort of gnome?"

 

John scrubbed his face with his hands, "Hobbit, Sherlock, I'm a hobbit, from Lord of the Rings."

 

"Oh those movies that keep putting me to sleep, yes I recall now. I will say, though, you do make a fetching wobbit, dear."

 

"Hobbit, HOBBIT! And I'll have you know it wasn't easy fashioning these fake giant feet to fit snugly over my trainers so I don't break my neck."

 

Secretly, Sherlock was impressed. What he said was, "A valiant effort in creating a believable member of the wee people."

 

"Not a leprechaun, gnome or imp, Sherlock. Hobbit!!!!"

 

"No need to be out of sorts, John. It's time to go, grab my violin, and let's be off."

 

"I'm already off, twat, and of course I'll carry your violin. Should have dressed as a damned gentleman's gentleman."

 

***~~~***~~~

 

By the time their cab pulled up to the Yard, Sherlock had charmed his way back into John's good graces, and his humour had returned. He was even excited to be seen with his beautiful man and looking forward to hearing Sherlock play. As often as the younger Holmes would perform for John, he seldom did so for others, and John wanted to show off his boyfriend.

 

They were met at the door by a resplendent Mycroft in full pirate regalia, including a hook hand and a very realistic looking cutlass, which proved to be a priceless antique. John shook his head gently. Between that and Sherlock's Stradivarius, he wouldn't be surprised if they suffered an armed robbery sometime during the evening.

 

At his side was honeybee Greg, who was definitely NOT the Queen Bee. It was obvious he was a worker bee as the spandex costume highlighted every bit of the muscle and sinew that he had earned tearing around London after criminals. Comically, his golden "stinger" was pinned on with his Inspector's badge, in case there was need to issue an official warning or an ASBO.

 

Mrs. Hudson, who had come stag from another party, was wearing a pink panther outfit and the deerstalker hat. She cooed over her four "boys" like a proud mum. She was just cheery enough that several herbal soothers and sherries must have been on the menu at Mrs. Turners. Greg only huffed.

 

"John she is wearing the damn hat!"

 

"Calm down, sweetheart. I'm sure all will be revealed. Look there's Molly with ah...Dimmock. Does he have a first name?"

 

"I'm sure he does, but even Molly calls him D, affectionately I believe. I suspect his name is Evelyn, Leslie, Marion or, God help him, Percival. Some family name that would make him fodder for bullying in the ranks. What are they meant to be?"

 

"Sherlock, I don't have the energy. Just please be nice and tell them what a great Harry and Hermione they make."

 

"Who? And I don't remember him having a scar or wearing glasses. This needs investigation."

 

"No it doesn't, trust me, and do what I asked. Harry, Hermione and NICELY."

 

Puzzled but not wishing to upset his blogger, Sherlock did as instructed and was rewarded with two blushing faces and shy smiles, plus a hand squeeze and peck on the cheek from John.

 

When Sherlock caught sight of Sally Donovan and Philip Anderson, John offered no cautions. Let them reap what they sow.

 

"Hello Freak. Finally decided to hide that face of yours I see."

 

"Ah, Sally. I see you and Anderson are Dracula and his bride. Perfect choice, both of you always leaving a gory mess behind and sucking the life out of anyone who has to deal with you."

 

Anderson bristled, "Look you..."

 

Surprisingly, it was Mycroft who stepped forward. "I would strongly advise you two against insulting my brother. You are armed only with two poorly made sets of plastic teeth. I however have an exceedingly sharp sword, and am reliably informed that one way to dispatch vampires is to cut off their heads. Care to test that folklore?"

 

Greg puffed out his yellow and black striped chest and growled, "Were you planning on being in the talent part of the night?"

 

Their matching sneers was the answer. "Then I think it best you two turn into bats and fly off back to your cave. Since I know you're on your own this week, Anderson, I'm sure you and Vampira here can find some other way to occupy yourselves other than harassing my invited guests. Off you go, out with all the other ghouls."

 

As they stomped away, Mycroft whispered, "Well done, Officer, but just how much of that rum punch have you had?"

 

Greg winked, "Not nearly enough or I'd be shivering your timbers right now in front of everyone."

 

"With that declaration, perhaps we should move on to the talent portion of the evening. John, as we agreed, you will act as DJ, with Gregory's assistance, cueing up those who require music and then coordinating the dancing to follow."

 

"Right, Mycroft, all set."

 

"Why wasn't I aware of this?" Sherlock sounded peeved.

 

"I am entitled to a few tricks up my sleeve too, my sexy Phantom."

 

***~~~***~~~

 

The competition was fun and revealed a good many hidden talents. 

 

Mycroft performed a rousing rendition of "A Pirate's Life" from Peter Pan, in a rich baritone every bit as impressive as Sherlock's.

 

"Didn't know Mycroft could sing, Greg."

 

Taking another large swig of punch, Greg nodded, "You've no idea, mate. Should hear him in the bedroom."

 

"Ta, but no. Got my own. Time for your number I think."

 

Greg wowed everyone with a jazzy rendition of "A Taste of Honey" on the trumpet. Mycroft remarked what a talented mouth his copper had, and John thought he was learning far too much about their friends.

 

Mrs. Hudson came next, gracing the crowd with a whistle and hoot inducing dance to the "Pink Panther Theme". As she gyrated around the room, wearing the hat and clueing for looks with a giant magnifying glass, it became apparent that her reputation as a former exotic dancer was NOT an exaggeration. At the end, she bestowed a big kiss to the portly desk sergeant manning the doughnut table and received loud applause.

 

After everyone calmed down, Molly and "D" put on quite an entertaining magic act marred only by the failure of the trick where an egg broken in the Chief Inspector's cowboy hat, remained a gooey wreck, not becoming a whole egg again. Since said CI had been a pain in everyone's arse in the division, Greg wasn't convinced it was an accident.

 

Then it was John's turn. He basically galloped his hairy feet onto the floor dancing and lip synching to Beyoncé's "All the single hobbits put a ring on it."

 

Mycroft sidled up to Sherlock, "Could that be a subtle hint, brother mine?"

 

It was said with such warmth and affection that Sherlock could only shrug.

 

Finally, Sherlock placed his violin case on the table and prepared. He shocked everyone by suddenly grabbing a 2 Liter bottle of Fanta and downing it in what seemed like a single swallow. Then he raised his violin and began to play the opening notes of the familiar overture. Then...

 

Greg nearly fell over, "John, is Sherlock playing the ABC song and burping the alphabet?!"

 

"That WAS a rhetorical question wasn't it? Of course he is! Oh Gawd!!"

 

After the last resounding, stereophonic belch, Sherlock concluded with the last few measures of "Music of the Night" and a deep bow. THAT would later be deemed a mistake.

 

The entire room shook with laughter, tears streaming down more than one face when Sherlock walked to John's side.

 

"Unexpected, John?"

 

"To say the least, where did you ever get the idea to..."

 

"I thought I was the last contestant. Is that...what is happening?"

 

***~~~***~~~

 

Much later back at Baker Street, John still couldn't stop the waves of giggles that kept overwhelming him every few minutes. "Lock, why are you sulking? You didn't even want the damn prize. You hate Halloween decorations and all that sticky candy."

 

"Not the point, Watson. I would have had the pleasure of binning it."

 

"You're a bit green with envy aren't ya?"

 

"Nonsense! The very idea of Mike Stamford dressed as a Fairy Godmother, sashaying around with a "magic wand" and sprinkling everyone with fairy dust, which by the way, will NEVER COME OUT OF MY HAIR- outrageous! And what was that ridiculous song he was warbling?"

 

Adding insult to injury, John began prancing around the sitting room singing, "Bibbidy-Bobbidy-Boo" from Cinderella.

 

"Cease and desist this instant, John!"

 

"Think you can make me?"

 

As the snogging quickly moved from hot and heavy to tear your clothes off foreplay, both men sized up the other. "I was only teasing you, love. Your performance was not only unexpected but ah... unique."

 

"I agree! Then explain to me, why was I not the winner?"

 

"Best guess, that last bow you took. Where did you think the rest of that carbonated gas was going to end up. I swear I saw your cape actually flapping in the wind, and we won't even discuss the, shall we say, aroma."

 

"On reflection, perhaps I had not given sufficient thought to that aspect. Since you have injured my delicate feelings however, you'd best get about the business of making it up to me."

 

***~~~***~~~

 

After what could only be called a marathon session of edging, ending in a spectacular blow job, John swallowed and pulled off Sherlock's flagging cock with a satisfied pop, wiping a line of cum from the corner of his mouth.

 

Sherlock drawled, "So, how was it?"

 

"How was it? Aren't I meant to be asking you that?"

 

"Not at all John. If I am to accurately gauge the results of my experiment I must have your input."

 

"What are you on about? What experiment?"

 

"Again, you see but you do not observe. Did you not notice my choice of Fanta flavour? Pineapple, John, Pineapple. I wish to compare the difference between consuming fresh pineapple and a carbonated drink with pineapple extract."

 

"So you're telling me you drank that soda and burped the alphabet to see how it would affect the taste of your jizz?! You are a madman."

 

"Your madman."

 

John snorted, "Yes you are, and you'd best remember that. But FYI, that did NOT make your cum more palatable, just a tad more, uh, fizzy."

 

Kissing the doctors chest, Sherlock hummed, "Well, at least you got to unmask the Phantom."

 

"You mean the Fanta."

 

"Whot?"

 

"My new name for you, menace. From now on, you're my Fanta of the Opera."

 

"Nooo, Jaawwwnnnn!!!!"

**Author's Note:**

> Hope all of you have a Spook-tacular Halloween with all treats and no tricks.
> 
> Fangs for reading and please leave a kudo or comment if you enjoyed. I love both so, witchever you choose, I'll be chuffed and haunt you down to reply. 
> 
> Boo to each of you and blessed be. ❤️❤️❤️❤️ Pat


End file.
